Sell Me A Coat (That's Red or Gold)
by LaylaBinx
Summary: Yondu doesn't have many prized possessions but his coat is definitely one of them. So it's weird that he keeps giving it to Peter. AKA: Five Times Yondu Gave Peter His Coat and One Time Peter Gave Him His.
1. Vented

**Hello all! Hope you're doing well! This is an idea I've been playing around with for a while now and I started working on it as way to deal with my bitterness after Infinity War. Hopefully you all like it!**

 **Speaking of Infinity War, I blame everything that happened in the entire second half of that movie on Doctor Strange. He was the one at fault, not Quill. To get a condensed version of the two hour, red wine induced rant send me a message and I'll share my theory.**

 **A/N: I own nothing =/**

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It's been less than thirty-six hours and Yondu is already regretting his decision.

Sure, he could have just taken the kid to his father like he was hired to do but noooo, he had to change his mind decide he was going to turn the boy into a Ravager instead. And yeah, that had been a good idea for all of two minutes before the brat bolted through the nearest open door and disappeared into the bowels of the ship. Now he's hiding out somewhere in the ventilation system and Yondu is left to reconsider his choices. Like if he's truly ready to take on the responsibility of raising the child to be a Ravager or if he's just going to wrestle the little shit out of the vents and dump him off at the nearest garbage planet.

He's gotta hand it to the kid though, he knows how to put up a helluva fight. He wasn't the first kid Yondu had been hired to pick up and he probably wouldn't be the last. The boy's father, Ego, apparently just remembered he'd fucked his way across the galaxy for several decades and had children scattered across the cosmos like Easter eggs. Now he suddenly wants all his kids back for whatever reason and was hiring every kind of bounty hunter and mercenary he could to wrangle them up and bring them back to his home planet.

And yeah, the pay was good and Yondu never asked too many questions because it wasn't his business and he didn't really care but he was started to grow a little suspicious at how many of the said children up and vanished the second they made it back to the planet. Like sure, if the guy wanted to practice some weird form of sacrifice and cannibalism that's fine but Yondu didn't really want anything to do with it. He had morales, not many, but still there were some lines even he didn't cross and aiding in the murder of kids was one of them.

So when he got the call from Ego to go retrieve some scrawny little brat on Terra he had pretty much already decided he was either a) going to take the money and run (Ego had a habit of paying half up front) or b) take the money and keep the kid. He hadn't made up his mind either way; it had been an even split right down the middle all the way until they entered the Terran atmosphere and spotted the kid on his knees in the middle of a field. That made their job easier for sure as it meant they didn't have to chase him from here to beyond.

As for the kid, Peter or whatever his name was, well, he definitely wasn't what any of them expected. The Ravagers had run the gamut when it came to the reactions of their charges. There was fear, there was confusion, there were tears. The kids would often cry or plead or beg to be taken back home. They would tremble and shake, going silent in shock or wailing in fear.

Peter did none of those. The kid went from fear to fucking feral in exactly twenty-three seconds and immediately lashed out at the closest Ravager, a hulking Solarian named Ablos.

He was easily three times the size of the scrawny child on the floor of the Ravager's ship but Peter didn't see him as dangerous or even as a threat, he just saw him as an obstacle. One that was blocking the nearest open door and needed to be taken down in order to reach it. So he reacted in a totally rational, sane way and launched himself at Ablos before anyone else had a chance to react.

The element of surprise was the only thing Peter had going for him; no one expected him to lash out the way he did so no one thought to grab him or their weapons to deal with it. He struck Ablos dead center, causing the Solarian to stumble backwards in surprise. And that was all the distraction he needed; the second an opening to the door appeared, Peter bolted.

In all the confusion, a few of the Ravagers pulled their weapons to which Yondu growled, "don't shoot him, ya idiots, just grab him!" Which would have worked in theory but Terran children are apparently very fast and slippery when large, intimidating aliens with large, intimidating weapons are chasing after them.

Peter managed to evade capture for a few minutes before someone caught him around the waist and jerked him backwards. Which, as it turned out, was a mistake. The second someone laid hands on him, the kid started kicking and fighting for all he was worth. His blows were blind, small fists and feet hitting nothing but solid resistance at every angle. But then he kicked back with one foot and happened to catch whoever was holding him in the groin and they dropped him to the ground gracelessly.

Peter hit the ground hard and immediately kept running. He didn't know where he was going and it didn't matter, he just needed to get away. He could hear shouting and thundering footsteps behind him but he never looked back, he just kept running. His eyes landed on a half-open vent shaft up ahead and he made a dive for it the second he was close enough, sliding into the small opening and slamming the grate shut behind him.

That had essentially been the end of the chase because none of the Ravagers were small enough to climb into the ventilation shaft after him. A couple of ideas were thrown around: smoke him out, toss a grenade in there and see what happens, shoot blindly through the grate and hope they hit something. All of those ideas, aside from being terrible, would have been completely ineffective because the likelihood of Peter staying where he was in the same shaft was incredibly slim. The ventilation shafts stretched all over the ship from the engine room to the cargo holds and a small, skinny child could make his way through them easily without being detected.

The other Ravagers were fine to leave him where he was; let the runt starve in the vents or freeze to death when they reached deep space, they didn't care. But Yondu was a patient man in spite of what outward appearances would suggest and was determined to just wait the kid out. He doesn't know much about Terrans but he knows they need to eat and sleep just like everything else in the galaxy and it wouldn't be too long before the kid came out for one reason or another.

He had thought that but now, thirty-plus hours later he was beginning to have his doubts. It had been over a day and half and there hadn't been a single sign of the kid in all that time. Aside from the few muffled thumps and tumbles from the insides of the ship indicating he was still in the shafts, the brat had yet to resurface and Yondu was beginning to get annoyed.

True, the fact that the kid had taken down two full grown Ravagers and managed to escape from some of the most dangerous mercenaries in the galaxy was impressive but he was also proving himself to be a large-scale pain in the ass. The brat had balls, Yondu would give him that, but that was only going to get him so far. If the boy proved to be more trouble than he was worth Yondu was more than happy to leave him on the next planet they came across and wash his hands of the matter entirely.

He finally catches a break a few hours later when he hears the unmistakable thump of a child hiding in the ventilation shaft in the northwest corridor. He's prepared this time though, more so than they were before. There's a discarded piece of metal propped up against the wall in the hallway, a short pole that's just long enough to reach the ceiling overhead, and he grabs it as he walks. He knows he only has one chance at this otherwise the kid will disappear again and there's no telling when/where/if he'll reappear.

Yondu makes his way into the hallway slowly, sliding his coat off as he does so. He doesn't have a net at his disposal so he spreads his coat out on the floor, opening it out as much as possible to it takes up the largest amount of space. With any luck, it will serve the purposes he needs it for and he won't have to come up with a Plan B. The timing on this has to be perfect though so he waits and listens and holds the pole steady until just the right moment.

A few seconds later, he jams the pole up into the ceiling at the lower corner of the grate for the ventilation shaft. The impact has the desired effect and the grate buckles up and then collapses inward, dislodging itself and the occupants of the shaft and dumping them both on the floor down below.

Peter lands in a startled, confused heap in the middle of the floor, splayed out on top of the coat that had been spread out a few moments before. Yondu doesn't give him the chance to move before he stoops down and gathers the sleeves and edges of the coat and bundles them tightly around the squirming mess of a child in the middle. He ties the sleeves across his bony chest, the lower hems around his legs, and basically tangles and ties him up in the coat to the point where he can't escape.

"Caught'cha, brat," he grumbles as he reaches down and hefts the struggling child off the ground and tosses him over one shoulder like a sack of sand.

"Let me go!" Peter demands, fighting and struggling to get lose and failing miserably.

"Not a chance, runt."

Yondu happily ignores the barrage of protests, threats, and a rather impressive string of curses the child throws his way and keeps walking. Yeah, the kid will make a great Ravager once he's done with him; he just has to keep him out of the vents from now on.

He makes his way down the hall toward a recently empty bunk. Being a Ravager was an occupational hazard all its own and there was never any shortage of spare rooms and bunks after a mission gone south. The endless rotation of empty rooms was great for new crew members but also served as stark warning about what to expect once they got on the ship. It sucks but that's the nature of things; your chances of survival dropped dramatically once you became a Ravager.

He locates a room closest to his own quarters and punches a code into the keypad on the wall next to the door. The door slides open a second later to reveal an empty room. It's dark, a little dingy, and it's small but it has an empty cot and most importantly there are no vents in the room which means the kid can't escape again.

Peter is still struggling against his shoulder but it's becoming less frenzied and more resigned when he finally realizes he can't escape. Not only that but he's probably exhausted (to the best of Yondu's knowledge he hasn't slept in all the time he's been up in the vents which means he's running on fumes now) and doesn't have the strength or energy to fight anymore. Which is great because neither does Yondu, to be honest.

He walks into the room and drops the still-bundled child unceremoniously on the cot, rolling his eyes when Peter curses again. "Bitch all ya want, brat, but this is where yer stayin' so get used to it," he tells him before turning and making his way back to the door.

"Wait," Peter snaps, looking from Yondu to the coat still tied around him. "You're not going to untie me?"

The Ravager captain just smirks and shakes his head. "You'll figure it out," he says before the door slides shut and locks behind him, leaving Peter still tied up and furious on the bed.

He can hear a few muffled curses and grumbles from behind the door as he walks away, the boy no doubt still struggling to get loose. Yondu's not all that worried about it; if the kid was even half as determined and resourceful as he was earlier he'll be out of the coat bonds in no time. As it is right now though, the brat has taken up more than enough of his time and energy and he has other things to attend to; he still has a ship to run after all.

Which is why he's surprised when he passes by the room a few hours later and doesn't hear the telltale sounds of a incensed, escaped child on the other side of the door. He pauses for a moment, listening carefully for any sound of movement inside the room. When about thirty seconds passes and he doesn't hear anything, he punches in the keycode and steps into the room once the door slides open.

Sure enough, the kid had managed to free himself the from the tangled knots of the coat but it looks like the struggle had sapped the last remnants of energy he had. He's sprawled out in the middle of the cot, sound asleep with the coat still tossed over him. The boy is dead to the world, completely oblivious to the presence of the Ravager captain standing in the doorway. A bomb probably could have gone off right then and he wouldn't have stirred.

Yondu watches him for a few more seconds, internally debating on whether or not he should step in the room to reclaim his coat. He eventually decides against it for fear of waking the boy. If he woke him up trying to get it back then they'd probably have to go through the whole rigmarole again and honestly he just didn't have the energy or patience for it. So he lets the brat keep it for the night, he'll just take it back in the morning.

He pauses by the door for a second longer before he leaves. When he's unconscious and not being a complicated little shit the kid is actually kinda cute. _Enjoy it now, boy_ , he thinks as he makes his way back to the door. _Ya got a long way to go before yer a Ravager._

With that, he steps back out into the hallway closes the door behind him, leaving Peter and his coat in the room on the other side.

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 **Thanks for reading guys! More to come soon! :D**


	2. Vanes

**Hello everyone! Hope you're doing well! Okay, so this chapter has some mentions of child slavery so please read at your discretion. Also the Vanes are named after Charles Vane who was an English pirate in the early 1700s. Just a little history blurb for you guys. Stay in school kids!**

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The ship smells like dried blood and rancid water.

The interior is dingy and dark, the metal floors uneven and covered in large dents and gouges that cut deep trenches into the walkways. The overhead lights flicker intermittently, casting long, dark shadows across the walls and ceilings. The power will fail entirely within the hour but they'll be long gone by then. They're only here for one reason and that's to find Peter.

The kid had been missing for over four days now and there was a 99% chance that he ended up on a ship exactly like this one. Before he disappeared, the Ravagers had been wrapping up a job on Shar, an industrial planet with a heavy black market underbelly. It was a lawless planet, governed by codes of conduct and little else.

Yondu hadn't tried to shield Peter from Shar's corruption, the kid needed to see it and know what he could potentially be dealing with. Planets like Shar were their bread and butter, a bad place to find good work and even better pay. People didn't come to Shar unless their intentions were skewed which made for several easy job opportunities all in one place. So no, Yondu hadn't tried to sugarcoat it or downplay the kind of place Shar was. He had given Peter about three warnings before the left the ship and that was about it. In retrospect, he probably should have given Peter a weapon of some sort but he didn't exactly trust a nine-year-old with a gun in a place like Shar so he dismissed the idea. Now he's wishing he had.

Despite ordering him to stay close and not wander off, at some point Peter had gotten separated from their group and had up and disappeared. An extensive search of the area turned up nothing, no witnesses, no culprits; it was like Peter had just vanished into thin air. Yondu know that, logically, that was impossible, kids don't just straight up disappear, but with no leads to go on that seemed to be the only explanation. It wasn't until about an hour or so later that one of the Ravagers mentioned that Shar was absolutely loaded with Vanes and that one of of them thought they had seen the trademark black X on the shoulders of several people in the assembled crowd. By the time that realization had been made, it was too late, Peter was already gone.

If Peter had been taken by the Vanes (which there was almost a 100% chance that he had) it was not a good situation. The Vanes were pirates, much like the Ravagers, but they specialized in one thing and one thing only: child trafficking. It was a disgusting yet lucrative occupation that would pay several thousand units per head when delivered to a particularly interested buyer. Vanes would prowl around cities and crowded streets and snatch up unattended children to sell into hard labor. Parents would warn their children about them, cling to them a bit tighter in crowded places, and steer clear of anyone with a black X on their shoulder for fear that they would be whisked away in the blink of an eye.

Although it had been outlawed for decades, there were still Vane ships hidden all over the galaxy and with a corrupt place like Shar, a Vane ship wouldn't be too far away. They were large, hulking things, most of them retired or derelict prison ships that had been repossessed and turned into slave ships. Yondu knows the design all too well; he'd been on enough to these ships as child to recognize the outline by heart.

The inner atrium of the ship is completely empty, the walls on every side around it clustered with individual cells. There are at least twelve floors with around one hundred cells per floor and so far they had covered and cleared over half of them. They had found about sixty children so far but none of them were Peter and that was beginning to make a muscle in Yondu's jaw tighten reflexively.

They had already tracked down two other Vane ships a few days before and determined Peter was not onboard. The children they found were released and taken to a transport ship that would charter them to the nearest peaceful planet where they would be safe and could get in contact with their families. The Vane ships were then reported and disabled, leaving them completely stranded and adrift until law enforcement could arrive or they froze to death, whatever came first.

It doesn't matter to the Ravagers what happens to the Vanes after they're captured. If there was one thing Ravagers didn't tolerate it was slavery. Sure, Yondu had transported Ego's kids for years but that wasn't slavery (at least he's pretty sure it wasn't). Returning a kid to their family was one thing, taking a child from their family was something else entirely. Once again, the Ravagers may not have many morals but slavery, specifically child slavery, was definitely one of them.

As for Peter, well, that was a personal offense. It wasn't just that Peter had been taken, it was the fact that Peter was a Ravager (a scrawny, baby Ravager but still, a Ravager nonetheless) and his kidnapping was viewed as an unforgivable slight. Because Peter was a member of Yondu's crew and he didn't take too kindly to someone taking him away. He was going to find Peter and get him back on principle if nothing else and God help anyone who got in the way of that.

This was their third in three days and so far it was looking like another bust. Even with the other Ravagers spread out all over the ship, it was still a slow process to unlock each door and clear the floor. They had taken care of most of the crew already, leaving them incapacitated and sometimes still breathing in a cargo hold in the lower level of the ship. Letting them live was more than they deserved but that mercy likely wouldn't last much longer once they were sent off to prison or a labor planet for their crimes.

A low, painful groan catches Yondu's attention as he comes around a corner and he looks down to see one of the Vanes down one the ground, clutching a bleeding wound in his stomach. It's not a mortal wound, not yet, but it will be if it's not treated soon. Good thing Yondu's not in a hurry.

He comes to a stop over the injured man and plants his boot in the man's abdomen, pressing down hard on the wound. The groans turns into breathless cries and he crouches down over him, keeping his foot planted on his stomach.

"'Ey," he says, reaching down and tapping the man on his grimy face. "Eyes up here, jackass."

The man complies, his face twisted in an agonized grimace.

Yondu pulls a small tablet out of his pocket and pulls up a picture of a grinning, gap-toothed child. "You seen this kid?"

The man grimaces, coughs up blood, and shakes his head. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Then yer of no use to me."

"Wait, no-" the man stammers but the words get cut off a split second later as whistle slices through the air followed but an arrow slicing through his skull. Yondu catches the arrow as it exists the man's eye socket and cleans it off on the edge of his coat.

He steps away from the body and makes his way to the next stretch of cells but he's beginning to lose hope that Peter is on this ship. He could be on another ship entirely or worse, he could have been sold already which would make the chances of finding him again even more remote. If the brat ended up in the hands of a buyer they might never get his location and even if they did-

"Hey, cap'n," Kraglin's voice cuts the the comm unit on his hip.

Yondu snatches the comm from his belt and holds it up. "What?"

"I pulled up the ship's inventory an' it looks like there's a kid matchin' Quill's description still onboard. Catalogue summary says _Terran male, approximately ten cycles in age, small stature. Warning: approach with caution, very combative._ "

Yondu almost smirks. "Yeah, that sounds right. What level?"

"Ninth level, looks like," Kraglin tells him, the quiet chatter of the ship's catalogue system echoing in the background. "Cell 947."

"Got it," Yondu says, snapping the comm unit closed and returning it to his belt. The only use the dead Vane holds for him now is his key card which Yondu takes and drops in his pocket as he walks away. He doubts he'll need it but it can't hurt to take it anyway.

He leaves clearing this level to the other Ravagers and makes his way to a nearby staircase, following it down until he reaches the ninth level of the ship. The screen displays on the outside of the doors show that nearly all of the cells on this level are empty. All except for the screen outside cell 947. A red light above the door indicates the cell is occupied, the readout matching the description Kraglin had found earlier. Pulling out the key card, he swipes it through the lock and steps back as the door slides open.

The room looks empty at first and Yondu tamps down the flicker of disappointment at another dead end. He steps in the room, expecting to find yet another empty cell and no sign of Peter. What he's not expecting is to almost get stabbed.

There's a soft shuffle of movement and then what might constitute as a battle cry and the Ravager captain barely has time to side step as Peter lunges at him. The kid has something in his hand, something sharp and probably made out of metal, and he was hellbent on driving it into the gut of whoever came through the door. Yondu would be proud if he wasn't trying to avoid getting impaled.

"Whoa! Knock it off, brat, I'm here to rescue you!"

The fight drains out of Peter almost immediately and he visibly sags when recognizes the Ravager captain. "Yondu?" he asks like he's not entirely convinced of the other man's existence.

"Yeah, brat, it's me. Don't stab the guy here to get you out," Yondu snaps, the clipped tone of his words covering up the consolation he feels at seeing Peter still alive and still in one piece. The kid looks a little worse for wear, there are noticeable scrapes and bruises covering his face and arms, but overall he looks unharmed. He feels some kind of emotion about that but he doesn't have a word for it.

"Did you make a shiv?" he asks, nodding to the makeshift weapon in Peter's hand.

The boy nods and drops it to the floor. It's a large chunk of metal, sharp and serrated one side, and it would make for a decent improvised weapon. "Pried it off the underside of the bunk," Peter tells him, gestured toward the metal bed frame in the corner. "I was gonna steal a key card and get outta here."

Yondu nods in approval. "Atta boy."

Peter offers a tired, wobbly smile at the praise which quickly turns into a grimace. He drops to one knee in pain, smothering a whimper as he does so, one hand going down to his left ankle.

Yondu frowns and steps into the room, crouching down next to the boy to see what's wrong. A thick metal cuff is looped around his ankle, the sharp edges cutting deeply into the skin and causing blood to well up around the metal. Yondu has seen these before and the sight of it on Peter causes his jaw to clench.

It's a Breaker Cuff, used almost exclusively in slave trading. Once applied, the cuff would tighten with each detection of movement, the purpose being to force its wearer to be still and not try to escape. If left on for prolonged periods of time, the Cuff would tighten to the point of broken bones and deep nerve damage, eventually cutting off circulation altogether and making complete amputation all but inevitable. And since Peter is stubborn and doesn't know when to quit, the cuff had probably been constricting continuously for the past four days.

Judging the amount of dried and fresh blood covering the edges of the cuff and the ugly discoloration around Peter's ankle, Yondu guesses the kid's ankle is definitely fractured if not completely broken by now. If left it on any longer it was just going to get worse.

Peter, for his part, it trying desperately to put on a brave face but failing miserably. He's obviously in pain, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, and he looks pale beneath the bruises and dirt that cover his skin. He's not crying (Ravagers don't cry) but there are tears in his eyes that he's fruitlessly trying to blink away.

"Alright, hang on," Yondu says, pulling a gun out of his pocket and adjusting the blast level. The key card won't work on something like this otherwise he'd go for the less dangerous option. Like their name implied,really the only way to remove a Breaker Cuff was to break it completely. "Cover yer ears, boy, this is gonna be loud."

Peter does as he's told and clamps both hands over his ears as Yondu takes aim at the control panel for the Cuff and fires. The blast is bright and loud for about second but it destroys

the panel and causes the cuff to go slack around Peter's ankle. Peter can't quite suppress the yelp of pain as the cuff falls away, ripping skin and causing a fresh wave of blood to begin streaking down his leg. His ankle begins swelling immediately, a deep, agonizing throb shooting up his leg and causing his vision to go white.

"Whoa, whoa, hey. Come on, brat, no passin' out, alright?" Yondu mutters, reaching out to steady Peter as he sways to the side. The rest of the color has drained from his face and he's shivering all over, from pain or shock or both, it's hard to tell. Yondu strips of his coat and drapes it over Peter's bony shoulders before scooping him, coat and all, off the floor and balancing him on one hip. "Come on, let's go."

Kraglin is at the top of the stairs when they round the corner, his gun resting loosely on his hip. "Ship's cleared, all the kids have been taken to transport" he informs his captain, eyes lingering on the coat-clad form of Peter Quill bundled against Yondu's side. "He alright?"

The Ravager captain glances down at the boy in his arms and nods once. "He'll be fine," he assures, clearing the last of the steps before readjusting Peter against his hip. The boy doesn't weigh that much but he's heavy and boneless from pain and exhaustion so that makes it more difficult. "I'm takin' 'im back to the ship. Finish up here."

Kraglin nods and jerks his chin toward the center of the ship where they had imprisoned the Vanes in the cargo hold. "What d'ya wanna do with them? Enforcers'll be here in a few hours."

For a moment Yondu doesn't answer, his expression dark and unreadable. Finally, he adjusts his hold on Peter just enough to reach into one of the inner pockets and pull out the kid's Walkman. He doesn't know why he grabbed it when they left the ship, it's not like the stupid thing was going to help them locate Peter any faster, but for some reason it seemed important to have it with him when they left the ship. He's glad he has it now, though.

He passes the Walkman to Peter and watches as the boy fumbles with the headphones. "Put those on, boy," he tells him shortly, the conversation clearly not up for debate.

Peter does as he's told and fits the foam pads over his ears.

"Good," Yondu says with a slight nod. "Now I want ya to turn that music'a yers up real loud, loud as you can get it, and close yer eyes. Don't open 'em til I tell ya, got it?"

Peter nods again and presses play on the Walkman, the soft drum of music filtering through the headphones. He turns it up as high as it will go and presses his face against Yondu's shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

Satisfied that the kid can't see or hear anything now, he turns back to Kraglin. "Burn this place to the ground," he says gravely, crimson eyes narrowing as he speaks. "We're not callin' enforcers on them, we're gonna make an example." He nods toward the center of the ship where the remaining Vanes are being held. "No mercy, no quick deaths, no survivors. I wanna leave a callin' card for the rest'a the galaxy so they know what happens when ya take someone from my crew."

Kraglin nods once in understanding. He can only remember seeing his Captain in such a cold, murderous rage a few times before and when it happened it was best to just nod and follow orders. "Aye, cap'n," he says, hoisting his gun back up and repositioning it in his hands. "We'll meet you at the ship when it's done."

"Good."

Yondu turns and makes his way back to the loading dock connecting their ships as the sound of screams and gunfire erupt behind him. The noise washes over him in dull waves and it's easy for him to tune it out. He glances down at Peter and sees the headphone are still covering his eyes and his eyes are shut firmly.

Being a Ravager was a brutal, violent occupation, a lesson Peter would need to learn as he got older but it wasn't something he needed to see right now. Yondu was content enough to shield Peter from it for now but he would show no mercy toward the Vanes. They took his boy, slapped a Breaker Cuff on him, and that was just unforgivable. He wanted this ship to burn to nothing but ashes and then he wanted those ashes to be cast into the nearest neutron star.

But he has other things to attend to now. So he tightens his grip on the Peter, exits the ship, and keeps walking as his crew lays waste to the Vanes in the cargo hold.

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 **Yondu keeps a photo of Peter in his pocket, how cute is that?**

 **Thanks for reading guys! More to come soon!**


	3. Bail

**Hello everyone! Hope you're doing well! This chapter is pretty short but hopefully you all enjoy it! :D**

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"I'd like to start this conversation by saying this is not my fault."

"I don't wanna hear it."

"Seriously. I just woke up here, I have no idea what happened."

"Then yer an idiot on top of it."

"Okay, harsh but fair."

"An' you got traded for a weak bounty. I didn't raise you right."

Peter flounders uselessly for a second before letting his hands fall back into his lap. "Come on, man, it's bad enough I'm sitting here in my underwear. Adding insult to injury is just a low blow by this point."

"You ain't gonna learn otherwise, don't see why it matters."

Peter opens his mouth to say something, closes it, opens it again, and gives up. Finally he sighs and slumps in defeat. "In my defense, I was left unsupervised."

Yondu is decidedly unimpressed. "That's it? That's the excuse yer goin' with?"

"I mean I'm just saying that this probably wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been left alone. So in the end this is kind of on you guys."

"That so?"

"Yes?"

Yondu nods once. "Alright, well enjoy prison, Quill."

"Hey, wait! No! I was joking, I was _joking_!"

Yondu is tempted to keep walking a few more feet, if only to instill the fear of God into the little smartass. This is not how he expected the trip to end but in all honesty he's not exactly surprised. Peter Quill has a tendency to land himself in situations exactly like this so get the call that his idiot Terran is locked up, half-naked, in the planet's detention center was less of a surprise and more of an expectation.

It had been the crew's decision to stay planetside for one more day following the completion of their latest job. Lately they had been jumping from one job to the next with no break in between and the overall mood of the Ravagers was beginning to sour. They were testier than usual, more irritable and quicker to resort to violence. A few of them had even drawn their weapons on each other in the past few weeks. Yondu has lost track of how many fights have broken out on the ship this month alone.

So when the suggestion was made that maybe they should hang around for one more day just to get a break from the ship, the Ravager captain agreed. Even if it was only for the night, if the short break kept his crew from killing each other then he couldn't complain. So he let them go with the understanding that the ship was leaving at first light the next morning whether they were on it or not. However they chose to spend their evening, women, booze, gambling, didn't matter to Yondu so long as they were back onboard the next morning.

Figuring out what to do with Peter was a bit trickier. The kid was more than old enough to take care of himself but leaving him to his own devices on a planet like this was asking for problems. Once again, Peter had the unique ability of finding the biggest spot of trouble in any given situation and getting himself tangled up right in the middle of it. He wasn't stupid by any stretch of the imagination but he was still young and had a bad habit of making bad decisions at bad times.

Still, the kid was never going to learn if they kept him locked up on the ship so, in spite of Yondu's initial hesitation, he let Peter go off on his own to do whatever it was he planned on doing for the evening. Besides, he's fifteen; how much trouble could he really get into in one night?

And no, Yondu definitely didn't stay up all night waiting for Peter to come back but he did keep an eye on the time. The best case scenario was that Peter would stagger onboard the next morning, hungover and broke because he's stubborn and he doesn't know how to gamble yet. Worst case is that he wound up dead in an alley somewhere. Somehow the kid had picked a third option that landed him somewhere right in the middle.

The tip he got from the detention center was surprising only in that Peter was the one being reported. It wasn't uncommon for at least one member of his crew to wind up in jail during shore leave but the fact that Peter was the one locked up was unusual. Because in spite of having nothing but terrible influences growing up, Peter was actually a pretty decent kid. He didn't start fights (although he definitely knew how to finish them) and he was usually pretty level-headed so it was a bit of surprise to learn he'd landed himself in a holding cell for the night.

Yondu is annoyed when he finds out (he figured he at least had another year before he was bailing Peter out of jail) but he's also curious. There's more to the story than the information he was given in the tip and he wants to know how exactly how Quill ended up in custody.

"You wanna tell me how this happened?" he asks, gesturing toward the cell currently housing Peter.

The boy flushes a weird shade of red and looks to the side. "There was this girl-"

"Of course there was," Yondu grumbles with a heavy sigh.

"I met her in one of the bars," Peter continues, undaunted. "We started talking and everything was going well and then all of sudden she said she wanted to take a picture together."

Peter shrugs in a way that's probably supposed to come across as cool and nonchalant but falls flat considering he's in his underwear. "I didn't think anything of it but then later she's stabbing me in the neck with a needle or something and I woke up here."

Yondu sighs all the way down to his soul. "She wasn't takin' a picture of you, ya idiot. She was a bounty hunter, she was tryin' to see how much you were worth!"

Peter blinks in surprise. "That's what that was? I just thought, I don't know, maybe she had a thing for scrapbooking or something."

"Yer hopeless," the Ravager captain mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. "So did you figure it out before or after ya slept together?"

It's Peter's turn to shake his head and he frowns mildly. "We didn't sleep together."

Yondu stares at him in silence for several long seconds. "So let me get this straight," he begins, squeezing the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache creeping on. "This girl shanghaied you, took yer clothes an' yer gun, turned ya in for a bounty, and you didn't even get in 'er pants? Boy, I outta disown you right here."

"Hey man," Peter grumbles defensively. "It's kinda hard to think about sex when you're getting roofied." He sighs and slumps back against the wall. "Look, it was a dumb decision on my part, I get it. Can you get me outta here?"

Like so many other things in his life, Yondu is tempted to tell Peter to figure it out himself. But to be honest he's kind of proud of the kid; not in how he was caught but in the fact that Peter had a big enough bounty on his head to be turned in for payment. It was sort of a right of passage for the Ravagers and something they bragged about constantly; the bigger the bounty the more bragging rights you had. And now Peter apparently had his own bounty which was promising in a way; it meant that in spite of being a late bloomer he was well on his way to becoming a full-fledged Ravager.

"Yeah, yeah," Yondu mumbles, waving at Peter dismissively. "Stay there an' don't do anything stupid 'til I get back."

He walks over to the processing station and sees a bored-looking kid who looks about two days older than Peter sitting behind the desk. The kid spares him a glance when he approaches.

"That idiot Terran over there is mine," Yondu tells him shortly, hiking a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Peter's cell. "What's his bail?"

The kid plugs something into his system and reads it off with a dull expression. "Eleven hundred units."

Yondu balks at the answer and shakes his head. "That's _it_? Are ya sure?"

The kid shrugs one shoulder with disinterest. "That's what the file says."

"Eleven hundred units? Are you fuckin' kidding me?"

The kid shakes his head and holds his hands up in surrender. "Listen man, that's what I got on file. He was turned in for eleven hundred units so his bail is eleven hundred units."

Yondu doesn't know whether he wants to laugh or demand the kid change the input in Peter's file because an eleven hundred unit bounty is just insulting. The men on his crew had upwards of six and seven figure bounties on their heads and Peter had just barely cleared four. It was an appallingly meager amount and it meant Yondu had a whole helluva lot more work to do before Peter was considered a proper Ravager after all.

He mutters a curse under his breath, digs the bail out of his pocket (literal pocket change!) and slaps it on the desk. "Here," he growls, nodding toward the cell. "Let 'im out."

The kid nods once, logs the payment in his system, and releases the lock on the cell. A few seconds later Peter comes stumbling out into the corridor, barefoot and clad in nothing but his underwear.

The Ravager captain sighs, shrugs off his coat, and throws it to him. "Put this on, idiot. Last thing I need is for you to cause a scene cause yer comin' back to the ship without yer clothes."

Peter catches the coat and slips it on. He's still scrawny so the coat is at least three sizes to big on him and drags the ground when he walks but at least he's somewhat dressed now.

"Thanks," he says, following Yondu to the door.

"Don't thank me yet, runt," Yondu mutters as he walks. "Yer payin' me back for yer bail and then we're workin' on yer record. Ain't no one gonna respect a Ravager with an eleven hundred unit bounty on their head. That's pathetic."

"Eleven hundred units? Wow, that's a lot more than I thought."

"Quill, I will leave you on this planet, so help me."

"Okay, sorry, sorry."

"Shut up."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading guys! More to come soon! :D**


	4. Tryph

**Hello everyone! Hope you're all doing well! Sorry for the long gap but this chapter spiraled a bit; it ended up being much longer than I originally planned but oh well! Hope you all enjoy it!**

* * *

"So I might not be making it to the rendezvous point after all…"

He can practically hear the eye roll on the other end on his comm. "What'd ya do this time, idiot?"

Peter balks at the accusation. "Why do you always assume it's my fault?"

"Because 99.9% of the time it _is_ yer fault," Yondu counters and yeah, okay, Peter doesn't really have rebuttal for that because technically it's true. A good majority of the trouble Peter gets himself into is more or less generated by him but still, this time it's _not_ his fault. Mostly.

"My ship was damaged when I was trying to get off-planet," he explains, packing the laser discs into his satchel and securing it over his shoulder. He'd nearly gotten himself shot trying to retrieve these so he sure as hell isn't about to lose track of them now. "The engine is pretty much shot so I had to make an emergency landing."

There's a muffled curse on the other line. "How bad? Can ya fix it?"

Peter stares at the burning wreckage of his ship and shakes his head slowly even though no one else is there to see it. "That would be a negative. The 'emergency landing' was more of a crash landing and what wasn't damaged during my escape was damaged when I pin-balled it off a mountain range."

"You have got to be the most incompetent, useless Ravager-" Yondu grumbles on the other line, his words disappearing behind the crackle of fire and burning metal. The ship isn't just a little damaged, it's totalled, and no amount of tinkering or patchwork would get it up and running again. Had the Djorin enforcers following him not shot out his central engine he would have been able to outrun them no problem. But one of them happened to get a lucky shot off and the resulting damage instantly crippled his ship. Shame too, he was really starting to like this ship…

"-ill."

"Quill!"

Peter blinks and looks away from the wreckage of his ship. "Huh?"

"I asked if ya got the discs."

He nods and his hand goes to the satchel absently. "Yeah, the discs are good."

There's a gruff sound probably accompanied by a nod. "What about you?"

"Huh?"

"You good?"

Peter goes quiet for a second, taking stock of himself. For such a shitty landing he was relatively unharmed. Sure, he'd been rattled around the cabin like a maraca during the descent and he'd smacked his head against a window but for the most part he was fine. His only complaint is his left arm; he'd jammed his shoulder against the side of the ship while it was tumbling to a stop and he's pretty sure it's dislocated. There's a slick, stickiness under his sleeve that makes him pretty sure it's bleeding somewhere but he's not sure of the source. Maybe it's the adrenaline but he really doesn't feel any pain; his arm just feels solid and heavy at his side like he's lugging around a tree branch.

"I'm fine."

"Yer full'a shit."

Peter rolls his eyes and amends his previous statement. "I'm fine except for my arm; I jacked it up in the crash."

"Long as ya still _have_ an arm I ain't worried," Yondu tells him although there's a noticeable tightness in his voice. "Where'd ya land?"

He'd been a little too distracted trying to get out of his burning ship when he first landed to figure out where he was but now he's starting to realize he might have another problem on his hands. The unbroken white landscape that stretches out in every direction and the snow and ice that kicks up against his boots with each piercing gust of wind makes it pretty clear he landed on an ice planet.

The broad expanse of the sky is a deep, hostile grey with dark, gunmetal-colored clouds rolling tumultuously overhead. There's a dull grey outline in the distance that might be a mountain range but it's too far away to know for sure. Luckily, none of the Djorins decided to follow so at least he has that going for him.

He fumbles with the navigation system on his comm for a second and watches as it flickers to life and gives him a brief summary of his coordinates. "Looks like I'm on a planet called Tryph, it's an ice dwarf on the outskirts of the Melorian quadrant."

There's another soft curse on the other end of the line. "The Melorian quadrant? How the hell did you end up there?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my first choice," Peter snaps back, trying to keep his teeth from chattering as he speaks. It's _cold_ , a bitter, piercing kind of cold that cuts straight through his clothes and the smoldering heat of his wrecked ship. "I was just trying to land somewhere before my ship blew up."

"Yeah, well now ya got another problem on yer hands, idiot," Yondu tells him sharply. "From the sound of it yer definitely not gettin' off planet on yer own. And there ain't nobody close by or any way to get to you anytime soon which means yer stranded til then. See the problem here?"

Peter looks at the smoldering wreckage of his ship and nods. "Yep."

He turns his attention to the blurry shape of the maybe-mountain range in the distance. If he can get there it may provide some kind of shield against the ice and snow. It's definitely better than sitting around here in the middle of a frozen tundra with nothing.

"I think I can make it to the mountains."

"What?"

Peter blinks at the question; he didn't realize he'd said that out loud. "There's a mountain range a couple miles away," he clarifies, squinting at the imposing, blurry shape in the distance. "I think I can make it there and find some kind of shelter."

There's a huff of agreement on the other line. "Well, it's better than nothin'," Yondu allows, clearly still irritated with the situation at hand. "Might keep yer dumb ass from freezin' to death before we can get to ya."

"Solid plan."

"Stop yappin' an' start walkin', boy," comes the blunt retort. "Talkin' ain't gonna keep ya warm when the temperature drops."

"Got it," Peter says, readjusting the satchel on his shoulder and walking away from the wreckage of his ship. He wrestles a long strip of cloth from his pocket and loops it around his neck in a vain attempt to keep the snow off his skin. "Just a leisurely hike through the snow. No big deal."

The temperature drops immediately the second he's away from his still smoldering ship, a cold, sharp wind piercing through his clothes and causing his injured arm to ache down to the bone. He clenches his teeth and pushes forward. Walking will help him stay warm and with any luck he'll be able to find some kind of shelter once he reaches the mountains. He can hope, at least.

 **OOOOO**

Of fucking _course_ Peter crash-landed on an ice planet. Yondu is really beginning to wonder if the kid pissed off some kind of cosmic deity because he has the worst luck of anyone he's ever met in his life. Seriously, the boy is a walking Murphy's Law; if something bad is going to happen, it will happen to Peter Quill. It was kind of funny at first but now it's just getting ridiculous.

Yondu is already up and moving the second the transmission cuts off, making his way down the lower hangars in search of a smaller ship. He doesn't know much about Tryph but he knows enough about ice planets to know that Peter can't survive there for very long and there's no way to reach him in time in a large ship like this.

He finds a small, discarded shuttle in the back of the lower hangar that should work. It's an older model, used for cargo mostly, but it's functional and that's all that matters. Better still, the engine and propulsion systems had been upgraded recently to make it faster and more agile for high-pay jobs that required a fast getaway. The smaller model and its added speed should get him to Tryph in half the time it would take to get the larger ship that distance.

He's about to slide into the pilot seat when a voice catches his attention. "Goin' somewhere, Cap'n?"

Yondu turns to see Kraglin watching him carefully. His first mate doesn't sound suspicious or wary, just curious. The Ravager captain nods once in response to the question. "Tryph."

Kraglin quirks an eyebrow at the answer. "Why the hell would ya wanna go to place like that?"

"Quill wrecked his ship there so now I gotta go rescue his dumb ass. Should be able to get there in a couple hours in this ship." He drops into the pilot seat and plugs the coordinates into the ship's navigation system. "Keep the others from killin' each other til' I get back, yeah?"

"You got it," Kraglin says with a nod, stepping back as the shuttle disembarks and makes its way to the nearest port before slipping silently out into space. The disappearance of the Ravager Captain shouldn't raise too much suspicion if it's only for a few hours and if it does, well he'll just deal with it when he gets back.

The navigation system puts the trip at roughly six hours, four if he cuts through an asteroid belt outside of the Alcron moon system. The asteroid belt would be a tricky shortcut, especially since many of the asteroids around Alcron possess varying levels of magnetism and tend to cling to and sometimes even destroy ships that get too close, but if it shaves two hours off his trip, Yondu is willing to take the risk.

He charts the course, pulls the route up on the holoscreen, and heads off toward Tryph.

 **OOOOO**

Honestly, screw this planet.

It's cold, it's dark, there's ice caking the front of his pants; overall there are just no redeeming qualities to Tryph as far as Peter is concerned. He doesn't know how long he's been walking or how far he's gone; all he knows is that the plume of smoke rising from his smoldering ship has disappeared behind ever thickening flurries of snow.

The mountains look marginally closer now but it's hard to tell to be honest. Between the snow and the wind, it's hard to tell if they really are closer or if it's just a trick of the light. Peter likes to think they're closer, at least; it makes him feel better if nothing else.

The communicator on his belt chirps once and he wouldn't have noticed it at all if it hadn't buzzed against his hip at the same time. He staggers to a stop and fumbles for the device, his cold fingers clumsy and useless as he paws at it. He's finally able to pull it loose and activate the channel, the scowling blue face of his captain appearing on the screen.

"How's it goin', brat?" Yondu asks without introduction.

Peter opens his mouth to speak but his teeth are chattering so much it's difficult to form words. "C-c-cold," he stammers after a second. Had he known he was going to be trekking through a blizzard today he would have packed a thicker jacket.

There's a huff on the other line. "Yeah, well that's what happens when ya crash on an ice planet," Yondu mutters as if Peter needs the reminder. "You any closer to those mountains?"

Peter looks up, squinting against the hard, cold wind. "T-think so," he says, pulling his jacket a little tighter across his chest. His injured arm has gone almost completely numb and he can't tell if it's from the cold or the swelling. It doesn't hurt as much though which is something of an improvement (eve if it's for the wrong reasons). He keeps telling himself if he can just reach the mountains and get out of this wind things will be better. If he's honest with himself, though, the mountains still look incredibly far away.

"Just keep movin'," the Ravager captain orders from the other side of the communicator. "I'm headin' that way now but it's still gonna be a couple hours before I reach ya. Find somewhere to hunker down til' then, got it?"

Peter nods, a jerky, spastic movement that he's not entirely in control of. "G-got it," he stutters, closing the communicator and hooking it back onto his belt. He looks up again and this time the mountains actually do look a little closer. It could be his imagination but he clings to it and keeps walking.

 **OOOOO**

Yondu bites back a curse; this situation is a lot worse than he thought. Peter is not doing well and he's still too far away to provide any kind of useful assistance. The kid is still walking and at least semi-functional but it's clear that the cold is beginning to take its toll. He might not know everything about Terran biology but he knows they're not equipped to deal with sub-zero temperatures for very long. The best thing Peter can do now is find shelter but that's a weak, temporary solution; it does nothing against the cold and ice and it's not going to help him regain body heat. Still, it's better than nothing and that's all he really has going for him right now.

He glares at the map laid out by the navigation system. Even cutting through the Alcron system is still going to put him over an hour out and that's _if_ he manages to get through it without damaging his ship.

The scattered asteroid field looms ahead of him, large chunks of rock and debris creating a thick band that stretches for miles in either direction. They look deceptively harmless, just masses of space rock floating weightlessly in the dark void, but he knows better. There have been plenty of larger, much more durable ships that have tried to pass through the Alcron belt and gotten smashed to bits in the process. Getting through here will take a lot of precision and concentration, distractions of any kind could get him killed. So of course Peter decides to call back at that exact moment.

Yondu grumbles to himself but activates the call anyway, dividing his attention between the asteroid belt and the incoming message. "What d'ya want, brat?" he growls a bit more harshly than he means to as a large asteroid lumbers past his ship.

"I r-r-reached the m-mountains," Peter informs him, his voice thin and breathless over the howl of the wind.

Yondu feels a tinge of relief at that but it doesn't last long because he's still trying to navigate through an increasingly dense cosmic minefield. "Well, what d'ya want, a medal? Go look for shelter."

Peter mutters something probably unflattering under his breath and stumbles forward. His movements are jerky and slow on the screen and it looks like he's doing a lot more staggering than walking. Granted, the kid had never been all that coordinated but it's much worse now because of the cold.

"This is t-too much snow," Peter mumbles, kicking his way through a packed hill as he climbs onto a lower ridge. "'S not even g-good snow…"

"What, ya never had snow down in Misery or wherever yer from?"

"Missouri," Peter corrects petulantly, stumbling along a ridgeline toward an outcropping of rock. He shakes his head and glares at the snow-powdered rocks around him. "S-snows there too b-but not like this."

A sharp, violent shudder suddenly rocks the ship as one of the smaller asteroids bounces itself off the side. Yondu curses and turns his attention back to the belt, dodging another chunk of rock that comes dangerously close to impact as well. "Yeah, well that snow ain't gonna stop anytime soon so ya need to find some way to get out of it."

Peter isn't listening to him; he's mumbling to himself, and endless chatter of nonsense that runs from one sentence to the next. He's talking about snow plows or snow blowers or something about the snow but it's all jumbled together in a confusing mess.

Yondu frowns and looks back at the screen. Peter's eyes are glazed and his skin is too pale and his slurred ramble is now significantly more worrisome than the asteroids around his ship. "Peter," he says, trying to catch the mumbling teen's attention. "Ay! Quill! You better answer me, boy!"

It had the desired effect and Peter slowly stops talking and turns his attention back to the communicator.

"You need to find shelter right now, ya hear me? I don't care where but ya need to get outta the snow."

Peter nods once, slowly, and staggers off to the right. His foot slips on something, ice or a rock, it's hard to tell, and Peter tumbles into the snow, landing heavily on his knees. For a moment he doesn't move and the only sound that comes across the transmission feed is the howl of the wind and the sound of his ragged breathing.

"Peter," Yondu says, physically wrestling down the panic in his voice. The image feed is all white, the communicator wedged in the snow from Peter's fall. The wind is still howling and he doesn't even know if the teen can hear him over it. "Peter!"

It takes a long, agonizing second but the communicator is eventually retrieved from the snow and Peter's face comes back into view.

"Get up, brat, ya gotta keep movin'," Yondu tells him shortly, his relief at seeing the boy's face again dissipating as he maneuvers around another chunk of rock.

"'S too c-cold…" Peter mumbles back, blinking rapidly as snow begins to cake in his eyelashes.

"Yeah, I know it's cold, dumbass, but ya gotta get up an' find shelter or yer gonna die. Understand?"

Peter says something in response but its lost in the howl of the wind. He looks confused and lost, looking out across the jagged landscape like he can't quite make sense of it. His condition is deteriorating rapidly and if he doesn't get help soon, there's a good chance he'll die on that planet.

"Quill, get up. Right now." Yondu puts as much force as he can into the words, gritting his teeth as he continues to cut through the asteroid belt. "I ain't gonna tell ya again, boy."

It had the desired effect, the Ravager captain's voice activating some kind of instinctual response in Peter, and he slowly rises to his feet. It takes another second or so but he eventually starts shuffling forward again, heading in the direction of a an outcropping of rock. The feed cuts out briefly and for a terrible second Yondu fears the transmission has cut out altogether. The picture filters back in a second or so later, dark and shrouded but still there. From the murky image on the screen, it looks like Peter ducked into a cave or something similar.

"Good, that's good," Yondu tells him, nodding in approval as he dodges another wayward asteroid. "Now just stay put and keep yerself outta the wind an' snow 'til I get there, understand? I ain't too far away now."

He thinks he sees Peter nod but it's hard to tell in the darkness of the cave. "I'm n-not shivering as much anymore so t-that's good, right?"

The Ravager captain sighs and shakes his head. "No, brat, that ain't good; mean's your body's shuttin' down." He scrubs a hand over his face and looks back out across the asteroid field. It's beginning to clear, the spaces between the rocks larger and easier to pass through. He wants to push forward faster but he can't risk damaging his ship trying to get to Peter either.

Peter mumbles something but the it's just a mass of syllables and letters.

"What's that?"

It takes a worrying amount of time for Peter to respond. His back is pressed against the cold wall of the cave and he's pulled his knees up to his chest to try and conserve as much body heat as he can. There's snow in his hair and his eyes look glassy and unfocused "'M tired…"

"Listen to me," Yondu says slowly, resisting the urge to yell when he speaks; he's worried, he can't even deny it now. Peter's body is shutting down and it won't be long before he loses consciousness completely and faces the very real possibility of freezing to death. He clears the last few asteroids blocking his path and keeps his attention focused on the screen. "I need ya to stay awake, alright? No matter how much ya wanna sleep, you stay awake, ya hear me? I'll kick yer ass from here to Sunday if I find out you fell asleep, Quill."

"'K."

"I mean it, boy. You stay awake or there's gonna be hell to pay." He tries to think of something a bit more substantial because the brat only takes his threats at face value nowadays, the cocky little shit. "Start hummin'."

"Wha-?"

"Ya heard me," Yondu snaps, increasing his speed once he's certain he's clear of the asteroid belt. "Start hummin' one'a those dumb songs from your Walkman. That stupid pine cone song or whatever."

"Piña Colada," Peter corrects sluggishly, the words tumbling out of his mouth like each one weighs a ton. He takes the suggestion to heart, though, and starts humming the melody quietly. It's faltering and disjointed but if it keeps him focused and at least somewhat conscious Yondu will take it.

"Atta boy," he mutters in approval, checking the coordinates on his consol again. If his map is correct, he should reach Tryph in a little under forty minutes. Problem is Peter may not have that long. He pushes the ship as hard as he can, a muscle in his jaw tightening as Peter's humming becomes softer. "Just hang tight, brat. I'm on my way."

 **OOOOO**

By the time he reaches Tryph, Yondu is nearly in a panic. He'd lost contact with Peter nearly fifteen minutes before he reached the planet's surface and no amount of pleading, threatening or cajoling could get the boy to respond to him. The humming had stopped, the video feed from the communicator was fixed on one wall of the cave, and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, Yondu couldn't push aside the cold, nauseating realization that he might be too late.

He picks up the signal from Peter's communication device just as he clears the stratosphere, the burned out wreckage of his ship appearing as a small black splotch in an otherwise completely white landscape. The mountain range he'd been talking about appears in the distance, tall and looming like a granite giant.

The signal gets stronger the closer he gets to the mountains and he's able to pinpoint Peter's location easily. The second the ship touches down, he's out the door and running toward the mountain ridge.

"Quill! You better answer me, boy!" Yondu's threats are lost in the roar of the wind that cuts across the face of the mountain. The wind delivers a lacerating blow with each gust, the snow and ice that gets kicked up each time making it hard to see. It's bitterly cold and the thought that Peter had been stuck in this for hours settles hard and heavy in the Ravager captain's gut.

He glances down at the communicator in his hand, the signal leading him to a small fissure between two sheer outcroppings of rock. The space small and cramped but it's at least somewhat protected from the wind. That's where he finds Peter.

The boy is huddled against the wall with his knees pulled to his chest. His arms are wrapped loosely around his legs and his chin is resting against his knees. A thin scarf has been wrapped across his mouth and nose, likely in a vain attempt to preserve some kind of body heat. He looks impossibly pale in the dull, grey light filtering into the fissure, and it looks like he could be sleeping if it weren't for the deep purple bruises forming beneath his closed eyes.

"Quill!" Yondu shouts, squeezing into the small space between the rocks and dropping to his knees in front of Peter's huddled form. "Come on, brat, it's time to go. We gotta get you outta here."

Peter doesn't stir, the frost forming on his eyelashes giving him an unnatural appearance. His skin looks too waxy, too pale to be real, like the real Peter Quill had been swapped out with a mannequin. He looks dead.

"No, no, no," Yondu mutters, refusing to even entertain that as a possibility. "Quill, you open yer eyes right this damn second, ya hear me?! Open yer eyes, Peter!"

He reaches out and tears the scarf away from Peter's face, frowning when he sees the alarming blue tinge to the boy's lips. He pats his cheek sharply, ignoring the cold, rigid texture of his skin. "Come on, brat," Yondu mumbles, doing an admirable job of keeping the fear from creeping into his voice when he speaks.

It doesn't work, Peter remains cold and unresponsive to his efforts. "Boy, I will kick yer ass back to life, so help me…" the Ravager captain growls to himself, reaching down and pressing his fingers into the cold skin beneath Peter's jaw. He feels nothing at first, just the cold, stiff texture of Peter's skin, and a muscle in his jaw tightens. He moves his fingers just slightly to left and presses down again, hard. It takes several seconds, much longer than he's comfortable with, but eventually Yondu feels the slow, shallow thud of a pulse against his fingertips.

"Atta boy," he mutters quietly, exhaling a huge breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His relief is short-lived though because even though Peter is alive (barely) right now, he may not be for much longer if he doesn't get warmed up. He needs to get him back to the ship, now, otherwise all of this will have been for nothing.

It takes a lot of maneuvering between the cramped space of the fissure and trying not to jostle Peter more than absolutely necessary but after a few minutes Yondu able to successfully get Peter hoisted over his shoulder. The teen is deadweight against him, hanging heavy and limp over the curve of his shoulder, but Yondu can feel the shallow rise and fall of his chest against his back and that's all the reassurance he needs for the time being.

Getting back to the ship is another story entirely. The ground is icy and slippery with just one person trying to navigate their way across it, let alone one person carrying the weight of another. There are several near misses, times where Yondu doesn't quite plant his foot as solidly as he needs to and nearly sends them both toppling over, but eventually they make it back to the ship just as another heavy burst of snow begins doing its dead-level best to bury the mountain and everything around it.

 **OOOOO**

Peter awakens in agony. His skin is burning from the inside out, stinging with lingering cold and smoldering as it warms slowly. He's shivering badly, shaking and trembling so hard the floor beneath him feels like it's vibrating. His teeth are clenched together tightly to suppress their chattering, the muscles in his jaws twitching and quivering from the effort. It feels like the world is made of layers of ice that are slowly and painfully being dismantled with white-hot flames.

His arms and legs jerk involuntarily, his muscles contracting in sharp, painful spasms. For a brief, confusing moment, he wonders if he's having a seizure, the convulsive tremors deep and uncontrollable. He thinks he's sweating but everything feels cold, like the perspiration on his skin is formed from ice crystals and frost. His breath is too hot in his lungs, the air too cold around him, and it feels like he's suffocating in a sauna that doubles as a freezer.

Through the haze of pain and confusion, he realizes he's no longer in the cave on Tryph but on the floor of a ship. He's laid out on the floor on some kind of pallet and there's something heavy and thick wrapped around him, a cocoon of fabric and cloth. He struggles against it weakly, his limbs heavy and unresponsive as he pushes and pulls against the material. It takes much more energy than he has and his useless pawing is getting him nowhere. He finally manages to pull an arm free from his bindings but the sudden exposure makes him gasp in pain. The dichotomy of hot and cold makes his skin feel like it's been shredded and laid open with a razorblade, burning in a way he's never known.

"Quit strugglin', brat," a voice commands from somewhere up above him and someone grabs his arm and gently guides it back under the pile of fabric wrapped around him. Peter can't make sense of it, his thoughts still slow and muddled, but he recognizes the blue hand wrapped around his arm and follows it up to the equally blue face of his captain.

"Where-?" he starts but his teeth begin chattering the second he stops clenching his jaw and it's hard to form any kind of coherent sentence after that.

"The engine room," Yondu informs him, dropping back down to sit on the floor next to him. "It was the warmest place on the ship so I brought ya down here."

Peter frowns, still trying to make sense of where he is and what happened. He remembers Tryph and the snow and the ice but his memory gets a little shoddy toward the end. There was wind and a cave and then nothing. He tries to remember, he really does, but his memories dead end about there.

It takes him a few seconds to realize he's covered in about five layers of fabric, an accumulation of sheets, cloth tarps, and anything else that could be used as a blanket. He doesn't know where it all came from but it's heavy and thick and he feels like it's pinning him to the floor.

His arm twitches again and he curls against it, groaning quietly against the floor. It's like a cramp and a spasm tangled together into one deep ache and he feels it all the way down to his bones. He mutters a curse as another spasm works its way through him, his muscles going tense and rigid as it seizes him.

"Hate to break it to ya, kid, but yer gonna be feelin' that for the next couple'a hours," Yondu tells him, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out in front of him.

Peter groans again as the pain subsides just enough for him to breathe. "This sucks," he grumbles, his words muffled and quiet beneath the layers of cloth on top of him.

"Yeah, well that's what happens when ya go out an' get yerself damn near frozen solid on an ice planet," the Ravager captain counters, the words coming out clipped and short. "Yer damn lucky I found ya when I did, boy. If I had gotten there a few minutes later…" the words fade off into nothing but the implication is clear; the cave Peter had been huddled up in very nearly became his grave.

He lets out a slow sigh and feels some of the tension in his shoulders bleed away with it. "Sorry," he mumbles, suppressing another shiver that works its way through him.

"Ya should be," Yondu retorts but there's no heat in his voice. If anything there's an undercurrent of something Peter doesn't quite recognize; his thoughts are still fuzzy and muddled but it sounds an awful lot like relief. "Scramblin' across the cosmos to haul your half-frozen ass out of a cave wasn't exactly a picnic."

The comment is probably supposed to come across as flippant and nonchalant but there's a palpable stiffness to the words that makes it clear that Yondu doesn't enjoy saying them out loud. He would never say it out loud but the sight of Peter nearly frozen to death in that cave had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

"We got a couple more hours before we get back to the ship," he continues, nodding in what Peter assumes is the direction of the ship in question. "Should give you plenty'a time to warm up between now an' then."

Peter tries to move again but a sharp, crimson glare makes him stop and reconsider his decision. "That said, I'm gonna go back up an' pilot this ship to make sure we get back in one piece. _You_ are gonna stay down here an' thaw out 'til you don't resemble a corpse anymore. An' if I catch you up an' about even a second before that happens then yer cleanin' the trash shoot for a month, got it?"

"Got it," Peter replies with a small nod, going still under the pile of cloth again. The trash shoot threat is a good enough deterrent but he also just doesn't have the energy to move even if he wanted to. Who knew coming back from being half-dead took so much out of you…

"Good," Yondu mumbles with a small nod of his own. He stands slowly and steps around the pallet, careful to avoid stepping on Peter in the process. He pauses before he reaches the door, considers something internally, and then works his coat off and lays it out over Peter. It's an oddly tender gesture that is immediately dismissed as the Ravager captain turns abruptly and makes his way back to the door.

"Stay put, runt," he calls over his shoulder as he leaves, the door sliding closed behind him a second later. The sound of his boots thudding up the stairs echos for a few seconds before it fades away and Peter is left alone in the engine room.

He sighs and shifts slightly to find a marginally more comfortable position. Everything still hurts and he still feels like he's freezing and boiling at the same time but exhaustion is beginning to take its hold over him and he feels himself beginning to slip away again.

He fumbles one hand out of the pile of fabric on top of him and hooks his finger in the sleeve of the jacket. It takes a lot of effort and a lot more energy than he has left but he manages to tug it down onto the floor beside him. The coat ends up in a wadded mess next to him, half on the floor and half still on top of Peter and that little bit of effort expends the very last of his energy.

He tangles his fingers in the sleeve and rests his cheek against the well worn leather, settling into it like a makeshift pillow. The coat is tattered from years of wear and abuse and the leather smells like a combination of gun oil and smoke but it's a familiar scent that helps ease some of his discomfort. It drives away the shivers that still wrack their way through him, slowly but surely leaching away the bone-deep cold and replacing it with a slow, gentle warmth.

The coat reminds him of a thick, well-worn sweater his mother had when he was a child. It was about four sizes too big for both of them but that sweater was always the first thing to come out when the seasons changed and the temperature dropped. His mother would slip the sweater over her head, the hem reaching well past her knees, and then she'd scoop Peter up and tuck him into it with her like a raggedy kangaroo pouch. Peter would laugh because with both of their heads sticking out to the neckhole they looked like a two-headed monster and his mother would indulge him by stomping around the house making monster noises while Peter laughed and giggled until he couldn't breathe.

He misses that sweater because as silly as it was, it smelled like his mother and it smelled like home. Peter hasn't had a home in a long time but the tattered red coat against his cheek is close so he holds it closer. Peter keeps his fingers wrapped around the sleeve, closes his eyes, and feels warm for the first time in what feels like days.

* * *

 **Thank for reading guys!**

 **Happy early Halloween!**


	5. Imposter

**Hello everyone! Hope you're all doing well! This chapter was a bit weird to write since we technically don't see Peter for most of it; it's all hearsay and surveillance. Hopefully it's not too bad though! Hope you all enjoy it! :D**

* * *

"This is a stupid plan."

"This is _your_ plan."

"That don't make it any less stupid."

Actually, 'stupid' was a relatively common theme when it came to Ravager plans. The top three categories usually fell to: stupid, reckless, and downright suicidal. This plan somehow managed to fall under all three. But they were short for time and lacked the luxury of choice so this plan was all they had to work with.

The exchange had to be made today, on time, otherwise it would be viewed as an unforgivable slight against the entirety of the W'Yan Federation and the full force of their military would be hot on the trail of every Ravager ship in the tri-galaxy area. The problem, however, was that the exchange needed to be made by the Ravager captain in order to be considered legitimate; the same Ravager captain who was laid up in bed with a broken leg and a handful of fractured ribs.

Recovering the Korax crystals the W'Yan's had requested hadn't been the issue, it was the cave-in that happened after the fact. Turns out Korax crystals are coated in a very thin layer of phosphorus and have a bad habit of spontaneous combustion and setting off small explosions once they're removed. The W'Yans, who had hired the Ravagers to retrieve the crystals for them, conveniently left this bit of information out of the initial discussion and the Ravagers had to figure it out the hard way.

Three had been killed instantly when a large chunk of the cave's ceiling collapsed, crushing them beneath several hundred pounds of rock. Two others were taken out by a secondary explosion, this one strong enough to bring the rest of the cave down on top of them. In the span of four minutes, five of the original nine Ravagers who had gone into the cave were dead and the surviving four were buried beneath piles of rock and rubble.

Peter hadn't been in the cave when it collapsed; he had been in charge of keeping the ship level and ready to go the second the landing party returned. So he was a little surprised when, not fifteen minutes after they left the ship and ventured into the cave, the whole damn thing collapsed on top of them.

It had taken less than a minute for him to figure out what had happened and make a run for the destroyed remnants of the cave. A tall, grey-skinned Ravager by the name of Arj was already digging at the rubble by the time Peter reached him, his arms and face covered in scrapes and bruises from being showered with debris. He'd been right on the outside of the cave when it collapsed, the force of the explosion knocking him back several feet and away from the direct line of fallout.

It seemed impossible that anyone could have survived the collapse but a minute or so later, after some of the dust settled, the muffled sound of voices could be heard beneath the rocks. It had been a slow, careful process after that to get to the surviving Ravagers because the slightest bump could set off another explosion, but after several long, anxious minutes, the first signs of life were found under the rubble.

Peter found Kraglin first, the firstmate semi-conscious and groaning when the rocks were pulled away. He was miraculously uninjured, the only notable trauma being a gash along his hairline that left his face covered in blood and dust. Yondu was uncovered next but his injuries were significantly worse. His lower left leg was twisted in an unnatural angle and several large pieces of rock were keeping it that way. Peter managed to get the rocks removed and drag him out of the rubble just as Arj was doing to the same thing with Kraglin.

The last survivor, Vorq, was in the worst shape. Most of the bones in his body had been pulverized by the cave's collapse and there were pieces of bone sticking out of his skin like shards of glass. The fact that he was still alive by the time Peter and Arj got to him was amazing in itself but there was no guarantee he would survive for much longer. Still, they couldn't just leave him there to die alone so they carefully gathered his broken body between them and carried him back to the ship.

Once they surviving Ravagers had been returned to the ship, a small collection of the Korax crystals were retrieved from the rubble and tucked away in a thick-walled room of the cargo hold. At least down there a tertiary explosion would cause minimal damage to the ship. The assurance was small consolation to the rest of the crew, however; five Ravagers still died getting those crystals and now the remaining crew was expected to deliver them to the very people who hadn't warned them about their explosive potential in the first place. It didn't sit well with anyone but it couldn't be avoided now.

"You said it yourself," Peter says, trying (and failing) to fix his hair in the reflection of the small shard of polished silver that served as a mirror. "The delivery has to come from the Ravager Captain to be legit and since you're bedbound for the next few days we don't really have a choice."

"Boy, they gonna know you ain't the captain the second ya walk in," Yondu protests, his words clearly falling on deaf ears as he speaks.

"Not if I don't tell them," Peter counters smoothly, giving up on his hair and settling with just leaving it shaggy and unkempt. They're Ravagers, not fashion models, a little bit of disarray is to be expected.

"They've only ever communicated with you via closed transmission, right? So they've never _actually_ seen what you look like. I've been around you long enough to imitate that weird hillbilly-space-pirate thing you got goin' on so as long as I don't come out and say I'm not really the captain they'll never know."

Yondu grumbles to himself peevishly; the kid's got a point as much as he hates to admit it. The W'Yan were still pretty primitive as far as interplanetary species went and they had only just discovered successful space flight within the past few years. Their communication system was incredibly basic, consisting of little more than a single line, voice-to-voice method that left no room for more advanced features like hologram technology and live images. Still, they were a formidable, warrior race who took offense to the slightest thing and the idea of sending Peter there, alone, did not sit well with the injured captain.

"This is still a bad idea," he mutters, shifting his weight slightly to relieve the pressure against his injured ribs.

"Yeah, it is," Peter allows with a half shrug. "But it's the only one we have. Besides, it's not like anyone else can go. You can't walk, Kraglin has a head injury, Vorq is still partially dead up in the med bay, and Arj doesn't speak." Peter flashes a quick grin over his shoulder before rifling his fingers through his hair again. "It'll be fine, trust me."

Yondu frowns again as he watches the kid makes another futile attempt to make himself look presentable. It's not Peter he doesn't trust; the boy was headstrong and more than a little reckless, sure, but he was loyal and knew the severity of the situation at hand. In fact, Yondu trusted Peter to get this delivery made more than any other member of his crew outside of Kraglin. But he didn't trust the W'Yan; one wrong move, one wrong word and they would kill him where he stood. If they discovered Peter wasn't actually the Ravager Captain, he would be killed immediately and the thought of that happening settled like a weight in Yondu's stomach.

"The second ya make that delivery, you get yer ass back on this ship, ya understand?" he snaps when Peter finally gives up with the mirror and turns to face him. "Ya keep the conversation short 'n sweet an' then you get out. No small talk, no jokes; just in, out, an' done."

Peter nods and hoists the collection bag up onto one shoulder. They had managed to remove most of the phosphorus from the crystals and render them somewhat stable. There was still the potential for combustion, however, so they were tucked inside a triple-insulated bag just in case. What the W'Yans decided to do with them once the drop was made was on them; the fact that Peter secretly hoped a few of the crystals would explode in their hands was beside the point.

"Well," Peter says, brushing his hands across his pants one last time like it would somehow fix the rest of outfit. It didn't. "Guess this is as good as it's gonna get. Time for the show."

He starts to walk toward the door but Yondu stops him. "Quill, wait."

Peter pauses and turns just in time to catch a heavy coat to the face. He fumbles with it, letting it unfurl to the full length. It's battered and worn, the sleeves and the body full of holes and stitches. It's Yondu's and he doesn't part with it easily so for a few seconds Peter just stares at it dumbly.

"Put it on, idiot," the Captain tells him, rolling his eyes as Peter fumbles his way into the coat. "Ain't no one gonna believe yer a Ravager Captain if ya ain't wearin' a Ravager jacket."

Despite its bulk, the coat fits almost perfectly. It brushes just below his knees and the sleeves stop right at the base of his wrists. It's a little tight across the shoulders (Peter is more broad-shouldered now that he's gotten older; he's also about an inch or two taller than Yondu now. Bastard…) but years of use and wear have made it the leather comfortable and pliable.

The Ravager Captain nods once in approval. "Good, now ya at least look the part."

Peter smirks and moves toward the door again but Yondu's voice stops him once again.

"You watch yerself down there, boy," he warns, crimson eyes leveling him with sharp intensity. "If things go south we ain't gonna be able to intervene; yer gonna be on yer own once you leave this ship."

"Don't piss off the locals. I know," Peter says, tightening the strap on the bag hanging from his shoulder.

"I'm serious, Quill," Yondu growls, wishing he had full mobility to he could stalk across the room and swat the boy across the back of the head for his nonchalance. "These people are gonna look for any reason to take offense with you an' if they find it they _will_ kill you. This ain't a joke, boy, this is life or death."

"Dude, I _know_ ," Peter insists with a small sigh. "I know how serious this is, Yondu, and trust me, I'm not in any hurry to get down there and get shot. The quicker we get away from this group of psychos the better. I'll deliver the crystals and come straight back, no offenses made."

It's Yondu's turn to sigh and he slumps back against the wall. "See that you do," he grumbles, suddenly exhausted from pain and the nervous energy of sending Peter into what very well might end up being a suicide mission. "You get any new holes in my coat and I'm gonna kick yer ass, Quill."

Peter flashes a quick smirk before walking out of the room. "You'll have to catch me first, old man." And with that the door swishes closed behind him leaving Yondu alone and surly in his room.

He grumbles and sulks alone for a full ten minutes before the silence becomes too much to bear. Irritated, he slowly and painfully pushing himself up and hobbles over to the door. His left leg is immobilized from the hip down which makes walking exceedingly difficult but he makes it out of his room and to the bridge without jostling his injury and making it worse. He's winded and aching by the time he reaches the captain's chair, however, and between his leg and his busted ribs he nearly collapses into the chair.

It takes a second to compose himself but eventually he's able to straighten in the chair and pull up the system he needs on the main screen of the ship's onboard system. It's not spying, not really, it's just surveillance. That's what he tells himself, at least, as he switches on the live feed transmitter he slipped into the coat's pocket before tossing it to Peter.

It's a one-way system so he can hear what's going on but Peter can't hear him. It's low-level eavesdropping and it's just to make sure they can actually do something if the plan goes tits up (which is highly likely with the W'Yans) Hell, the kid probably doesn't even know the transmitter is there let alone knows it's on and on active playback.

Right now all he can hear is the shuffle of fabric from inside the coat's pocket as Peter walks. For several long minutes everything is quiet and the muffled sound of Peter's footsteps is the only thing that fills the room.

"Walkin' around on a broke leg probably ain't the greatest idea, Cap'n," a voice scolds from across the room and said captain turns to see his first mate joining him on the bridge.

"Neither is walkin' around with a head injury, idiot," Yondu snaps without any real heat as Kraglin drops into the chair next to him.

Kraglin waves away the comment and indicates the monitor with a tip of his chin. "That for Peter?"

Yondu sighs and slumps back in his chair again. "Just in case the brat gets in over his head, which, ya know, will more than likely happen."

Kraglin considers this for a second before shaking his head. "I dunno, Cap'n, kid's got a good head on his shoulders. I think he could pull this off."

Yondu says nothing and stares at the screen intently. Once again, it's not Peter he doesn't trust. He's worked with people like the W'Yan before and they're the type to take your money with one hand and slip a knife between your ribs with the other. Peter is smart enough not to cross them but that doesn't mean the W'Yan will show him the same courtesy. The likelihood of them double crossing him and deciding to kill him rather than pay up are extraordinarily high and Yondu wants to be ready to move if that sounds like the case.

A voice cuts through feed, garbled and guttural like its owner has been gargling with lava rocks for the past few years. "Yondu Udonta?" the voice asks, raspy and rough like sandpaper over limestone.

"That'd be me," Peter answers, voice confident and steady like he'd been answering to that name his entire life.

There's a short huff of acknowledgement. "This way," the W'Yan replies tersley and there's more muffled movement as the transmitter is shuffled around inside the pocket. There's no visual to accompany the transmission which makes listening in blindly all the more frustrating. After a few more minutes of silence it sounds like Peter stops.

"You have the crystals?" a different rough voice asks, the pitch still just as raspy and garbled as the previous one.

"Depends," Peter replies breezily. "You got my payment?"

There's a noise, somewhere between a chuckle and a hiss. "The crystals first and then you'll get your payment."

"Hmm...no." The response is blunt and surprising, so much so that both Yondu and Kraglin stiffen when they hear it.

"The hell is he doin'?" Kraglin asks, shooting a confused look to the Ravager captain. Yondu doesn't answer but his eyes narrow slightly as he continues to listen.

"You dare challenge our request?" the voice asks incredulously and there's a serious of raspy hisses and snarls in the background that indicates the W'Yan came in force and Peter is outnumbered.

"It ain't a challenge," Peter counters smoothly, his voice level as he speaks. His accent gets thicker the longer he speaks and years of being around Yondu and the other Ravagers bleeds into his words. "I'm just protectin' my interests. See my crew 'n I went to hell an' back gettin' these crystals for you an' I ain't about to hand 'em over till I'm good an' sure you aren't gonna screw me outta payment."

"Your insolence is not appreciated," the W'Yan growls, the warning tone in his voice ringing loud and clear.

"Yeah, well I don't appreciate not bein' paid for my hard work," Peter replies coolly, unfazed by the warning. "Now I can give you the crystals ya requested an' take my payment in full an' be on my way or we can sit here an' argue about it some more. The choice is yours."

There's a series of clicks like weapons being activated and leveled at Peter and Yondu has the sick, sinking feeling that he's about to hear him get shot.

Peter, for his part, just sighs. "Shootin' me ain't gonna do you any good. These crystals are still coated in phosphorus; any kind of spark or sudden movement will cause them to ignite. You really wanna take yer chances with that?"

For a long, tense moment nothing happens and it takes Yondu several seconds to realize he's holding his breath. Finally there's a grumble of assent and it sounds like they've come to some kind of agreement.

"Your payment, as promised," the W'Yan growls, spitting out the words like they're coated in acid.

"Your crystals, as promised," Peter replies, the transmitter shuffling slightly as he passes over the bag.

One of the W'Yan snarls, a disdainful, angry sound. "Leave now, your presence is no longer required."

"Wait," Peter's voice cuts in one last time. "We're not done yet."

Yondu tenses again because _what the hell is Peter doing?_

Beside him, Kraglin gawks at the monitor in disbelief. "What is he-?"

"Shh," Yondu cuts him off with a sharp hiss before he can continue, listening carefully to the exchange.

"I lost five good men gettin' these crystals for you all because you didn't tell us about the phosphorus. Good help is hard to come by on my ship an' I don't take too kindly to members of my crew gettin' blown up because of a lack of information. Seems only right you should take some responsibility in the end."

A harsh growl is what he gets in response. "Choose your next words carefully, Ravager."

"I want reimbursement for the men I lost. Five hundred units per head."

Peter sounds as cool and relaxed as if he were discussing the weather while Yondu feels like his head is about to explode back on the ship. Of all the brazen, reckless plans the kid could have come up with…

"You have the audacity to demand more payment for the loss of men under _your_ command," the W'Yan seethes, the question quickly turning into a furious statement. "You believe we should compensate you for your incompetence as a Captain?"

"The way I see it," Peter interjects smoothly. "This conversation has less to do with my competence as a Captain an' everything to do with the information that was purposely kept from us by your Federation. You knew about the phosphorus an' ya didn't tell us an' now five of my men are dead an' buried in that cave. That's on you."

The W'Yan lets out an enraged growl and suddenly his voice is much closer like he's taken a lunge at Peter. "I should kill you where you stand."

"You could," Peter reasons calmly. "But then you'll have to find someone else to retrieve those crystals for ya an' I can guarantee my Ravagers are your cheapest option. Anyone else is gonna charge you double or triple the price an' if yer not willin' to pay that then ya always have the option of retrievin' 'em yourself. But at least you'll know about the phosphorus when ya go; can't say the same for the men I lost yesterday."

Another snarl greets him but it doesn't sound like any of the W'Yan are advancing. Peter maintains his composure and speaks again in the same calm, level voice. "Five hundred per head an' we stay on as yer glorified errand boys."

It's a bold, dangerous move, one that stands every chance of failing and ending up with Peter dead or worse but he doesn't back down. Finally, the W'Yan grumbles irritably and agrees. "Five hundred per head," he sneers, passing Peter the additional payment with palpable contempt. "As requested."

"Pleasure doin' business with ya," Peter quips, the transmitter shifting as he pockets the payment. There's movement, like he's walking away now, and for a brief moment Yondu feels a twinge of relief that Peter actually pulled this off. But then a voice stops him and the anxiety ratchets up again.

"Heed these words, Yondu Udonta," the W'Yan warns, his voice low and threatening. "Your service was necessary but your brash impertinence will not be tolerated should we meet again. You do not want the W'Yan as your enemies."

"And you don't want my Ravager as yours," Peter retorts smoothly and it sounds like he never stops walking. "So let's save the empty threats and call this meetin' over. I got a ship to get back to."

The conversation ends there and no one stops Peter as he makes his way back to his ship. Still, Yondu doesn't let himself relax until he can hear the sounds of the ship lifting off and pulling out of the planet's atmosphere. Only once he's absolutely sure Peter is safely away from the W'Yan's planet does he allow himself to let out a long, heavy sigh.

"That was a crazy gamble Quill just took," Kraglin mutters, falling back against his chair with a huff. "I kinda surprised they didn't shoot 'im."

Yondu shakes his head once and says nothing. It was a crazy gamble, one that stood every chance of failing, and to be completely honest he's surprised Peter didn't get shot too.

It takes about half an hour for Peter to get back to the main ship and re-anchor in the loading dock. He comes strolling onto the bridge a few minutes later, a thin case containing their payment dangling from his fingers.

"Boy, what part of 'don't piss off the locals' do you not understand?" Yondu growls the second Peter appears on the bridge.

"That was a big risk, Quill," Kraglin admonishes but the tone of his voice makes it clear he's at least a little proud of the exchange.

"A big risk that paid off," Peter counters with a grin before tossing the case to Kraglin. "It doesn't make up for the men we lost but it at least forced the W'Yan to admit they were at fault."

"Yeah, an' it puts us in their crosshairs, brat," the Ravager captain snaps, eyes narrowing as he speaks. "Yer little stunt back there just shot us to the top of a very short shit list. Ya had one job, boy, an' that was to make the exchange an' leave but no, ya had to go off script an' hike up the price an' for what? Twenty-five hundred units? They coulda killed you for that, Quill!"

Peter sighs and flops into the nearest chair. "Dude, chill, it was a test."

"A test?!"

"Yeah, a test. You think they wouldn't have gotten a little suspicious if I didn't address the literal death trap they walked us into? I know Ravagers aren't exactly a cuddly bunch but the deaths of crew members when the blame falls on someone else is a pretty big deal. What was I supposed to do? _'Oh yeah, we lost five men getting these crystals for you but that's fine, it's no big deal.'_ "

Peter shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. "A Ravager Captain would never let that slide and I made sure they paid for it. Simple as that."

Yondu wants to argue but the kid has a point. A true Ravager Captain would be furious about the lack of communication regarding the phosphorus coating the crystals. Intentional or not, the W'Yan had to know that some of their crew would be killed or at least seriously injured during the retrieval process. No self-respecting Captain would accept that without a fight and Peter had been perceptive enough to realize that going in. Had he shrugged it off and not challenged the exchange the W'Yans might have become suspicious and started doubting his credentials. Then it would have been all over but the cleanup.

Still, he's not happy with the risk Peter took and how easily it could have turned against him. "They still coulda shot you."

"The could have but they didn't," Peter retorts with a grin, kicking his feet up on the navigation panel. "Look, if it makes you feel any better I didn't like this assignment either. Pretending to be you for an hour was exhausting."

Yondu rolls his eyes. "Smart ass."

Peter just laughs and shrugs his way out of the coat. "Here," he says, passing it back to the real Ravager Captain sitting across from him. "I relinquish my temporary title."

Yondu shakes his head and indicates the jacket with a dip of his chin. "Keep it," he says simply, actively avoiding Peter's surprised gaze. "Can't be a Ravager without a jacket, right?" He shrugs in a way that's supposed to look aloof and nonchalant but fails at both. "'Sides, that one's gettin' too small for me anyway."

Peter says nothing for a minute and simply stares at the coat in his hands. Finally, he smirks a little and nods, slipping the coat back on without a word. He straightens it carefully on his shoulders and lets his arms fall back to his sides once he's sure it's settled.

Recognizing the weirdly sentimental gesture and the fact that Yondu would sooner skin him alive than comment further on the exchange, Peter takes that as his cue to leave. "If anyone needs me I'll be below deck," he calls over his shoulder before stepping out of the room, the door swishing closed behind him.

For a long couple moments, no one speaks. Finally, when the silence becomes too much to bear, Kraglin leans back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on the door Peter just passed through. He opens his mouth to say something but Yondu cuts him off before the words ever come.

"Not a word."

Kraglin smirks and shakes his head. "I'm just sayin'-"

"Keep "sayin'' an' I'll gut you."

The first mate laughs quietly and holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright; have it your way."

Another beat of silence passes. "Now ya gotta find a new coat."

"Shut up."

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 **Thanks for reading guys! :D**


	6. Guardian

**Hello everyone! Hope you're all doing well! This chapter takes place in between the last chapter of _Carry On_ and the events of _Crossfire of Stardom_ ; you're welcome to read them if you'd like but it's not required, this chapter is basically just filler! Hope you all like it! :D**

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"You look like shit, Quill."

"I could say the same for you, old man."

That's fair, honestly, but Yondu thinks that for being recently dead he looks decent enough. Peter, on the other hand, looks like he's been stretched to the point of breaking. He's haggard and worn, like he's suddenly gained ten years in the span of a few weeks. He's scruffier than Yondu remembers and he has the gaunt, ragged appearance of someone who's taken a lot of shit lately and hasn't exactly been handling it well. There are bags under his eyes and the way his clothes hang off his shoulders indicate he's lost a bit of weight too. So yeah, Quill looks like shit and Yondu hates it because he knows he's the cause of most of it.

They're sitting in a mostly empty bar, staring at each other from across the width of a small table that might as well be a galaxy. There's a bottle sitting on the table between them, the contents dark and smelling remarkably like a combination of tar and licorice. Neither of them are really interested in it but if there was ever an appropriate time for alcohol, now was it.

Getting Peter out of the alley across town had been a process. The anger and grief that had exploded to the surface upon finding out that Yondu was alive had left him drained and more than a little exhausted. Not only that, he was still wary and suspicious of the ex-Ravager's miraculous resurrection and allowing a previously dead man to coax him away from the alley had been no small feat. However, the aforementioned exhaustion had dulled his hesitance enough to where he allowed Yondu to more or less drag him out of the alley and direct him to a new location. The bar hadn't really been the first choice but it was empty and it had chairs (which Peter was badly in need of) so they had ducked inside and found a table toward the back of the room.

The bartender is chatting quietly with the only other patron in the bar but he eyes the duo carefully as he speaks. Apparently word had gotten out about the bar brawl on the other side of town and the wariness in the bartender's eyes makes it clear he's on the lookout for a repeat performance.

The bar remains quiet, however, the few patrons inside more concerned with their own affairs rather than those around them. It's for the best really; they needed a quiet place to discuss things and it wasn't shaping up to be a short conversation.

Peter pours himself a glass of the liquor on the table and eyes it silently. It's dark brown and thick and he does an admiral job of suppressing the shudder that ripples through him once he swallows it. He drops the glass back on the table with a dull thunk and leans back in his chair.

"So now what?" he asks after a second, staring intently at the glass like he's convinced it's about to get up and move at any moment. "Where do we go from here?"

Yondu doesn't have an answer; it's one of the few times in his life he doesn't know what to say. Instead he sighs heavily and leans forward to rest his elbows on the table. "Hell if I know," he mutters, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. "Trust me when I say this," he says, gesturing to himself. "Wasn't part'a the plan. Hate to be blunt, kid, but I wasn't exactly plannin' on comin' back."

Peter scoffs and it's a raw, bitter sound. "Yeah, most of the time death is permanent," he retorts but there's little heat in his voice. He's slowly started to move from anger and disbelief to anger and cautious acceptance; he doesn't understand it (neither does Yondu) but he's started to accept it as new, confusing reality. It's still a lot to digest, though, and Peter is clearly struggling under the weight of it.

His eyes are still bloodshot from earlier and while he's no longer shaking like he was before, he's still tense and rigid as a bowstring. He fidgets with the edges of his jacket, nervous energy keeping his hands moving almost constantly. It looks like it's taking a lot of effort to keep himself still and seated instead of pacing the floor.

"What are you going to do?" Peter asks after a minute, finally looking up from the table.

Again, it's a question Yondu doesn't have an answer for. He's always had a plan, thinking two, sometimes three steps ahead of whatever is going on and preparing for what came next. But now...well, now he hasn't planned on what happens outside of this bar, let alone what he's going to do now that he's back among the living. Being dead tends to put a damper on all current and future prospects.

"Haven't figured that part out yet," he replies with a small shrug. "I blew up the ship, killed most'a the crew, got myself killed in the process...that's pretty hard to come back from." He reaches for the bottle and pours himself a shot of the dark liquor.

"You gonna get back in?" Peter asks, keeping the question vague and ambiguous as possible; he keeps the word "Ravager" out of it entirely, leaving it as an implication only. The bartender looked skittish enough already and name-dropping a group known for violence and destruction wasn't the best idea in the current setting.

It's Yondu's turn to scoff and he shakes his head slowly. "I still got a couple dozen bounties on my head, boy, an' a whole lotta people who'd be happy to take another shot at it if they find out I'm alive and kickin'. So for the time bein' stayin' dead probably ain't such a bad idea." He levels Peter with a mild glare. "Which means I'm gonna request that ya keep my inexplicable resurrection to yerself. Less people who know I'm alive the better."

Peter smirks, the expression dry and brittle as kindling. "Who am I gonna tell, man? Actually, scratch that, who would believe me? I could shout it from the rooftops and I doubt anyone would listen to me." His voice drops a little before he speaks again. "Last thing I need is for the others to think I've gone _more_ crazy."

There's something about the way he says it that makes it clear concerns about his mental stability had been a subject of discussion recently. Peter had always been impulsive, thinking with his heart rather than his brain, a trait that usually led to absurd levels of recklessness. After everything that happened with Ego (finding out he was responsible for his mother's death, getting used as a glorified battery, basically just being an egomaniacal prick) it wasn't too hard to imagine that Peter probably made some pretty reckless decisions for a while after that.

Hell, if Yondu knows anything about Peter Quill, those "reckless decision" had probably become downright suicidal. Where Peter tends to lack self-preservation instincts in himself, he more than makes up for it in protecting those he's closest to. And yeah, the Ravagers may not have given him the best childhood on the books but he still considered some of them close enough to be family and was willing to fight to death for them. Then to lose the one person who was the closest thing to a father figure he's probably ever known…

Once again, Yondu wants to point out that his decision was 100% his choice but he figures now really isn't the time to bring that up. It's abundantly clear that Peter had not handled his death very well and his coping skills, if they could be called that, were questionable at best.

He decides to change the subject to something that's been bothering him ever since he first laid eyes on the Guardian earlier in the evening. "I didn't see any'a yer new friends watchin' yer back during that brawl back there," he comments, watching as Peter's eyes shift warily.

He shrugs before he speaks again. "Look, 's not exactly my place or nothin' but they seem pretty fond'a you which makes it weird that they weren't with you on this job. That it unless you went off on yer own, like a dumbass, an' they don't know where you are."

It's Peter's turn to look away and he shifts slightly in his chair. "They know I'm on a job," he answers vaguely, sliding his glass back and forth between his hands. "I didn't tell them where I was going because I didn't want them to worry."

The crimson glare leveled at him makes Peter roll his eyes. "Dude, knock it off. I knew the risks and I knew if I told them where I was going they would try to follow me."

"An' you thought goin' off on yer own was a smart move?" Yondu doesn't even try to keep the disapproval out of his voice. "Boy, I outta kick yer ass right here. Or better yet, send a message to yer team let yer green girlfriend do it for me. I raised ya to be a lotta things, Quill, but stupid wasn't one of 'em."

"Man, give me a break," Peter grumbles peevishly, shooting the ex-Ravager a glare of his own. "Everyone's been tip-toeing around me for weeks now and watching every single thing I do like they're waiting for me to explode. I just needed to get off a ship for a couple days and clear my head, that's all. I didn't want them to worry about me so I didn't tell them where I was going."

Yondu stands then and reaches across the table to smack Peter upside the head. "They're part'a yer crew, idiot, it's their damn job to worry about you! It comes with the job! And you sneakin' off without tellin' 'em where yer goin' sure as hell ain't helpin'!"

Peter scoffs and shakes his head. "Dude, I used to sneak away all the time and you never knew where I was."

The ex-Ravager narrows his eyes. "You think so, huh? Boy, since you were nine years old you never got twenty feet off the ship without me knowin' exactly where you were. I kept track'a you even when ya thought I didn't because it was my job to know what kinda stupid shit you were gettin' yerself tangled up in at all times! You sneakin' off the ship had nothin' to do with a lack of awareness on my part an' everything to do with me _allowing_ you to do it."

He leans forward then, jabbing one blue finger into the table top to emphasize his point. "Yer crew is yer family, Quill, an' like it or not they're gonna worry about you just the same as you would about them. So yer plan'a sneakin' off alone because you didn't want 'em to worry about you probably just made things worse."

Peter is silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he eyes the bottle on the table passively. "What do you mean you kept track of me?" he asks finally, shifting his gaze up to meet Yondu's.

The former Captain shifts his attention away, mildly flustered by the question. "I have my ways, runt, just leave it at that."

A ghost of a smile tugs at Peter's mouth, the first one he's felt in weeks. He knows better than to pry so instead he reaches forward and grabs the bottle, pouring a shot for both of them. "You're probably right," he mumbles after a minute, taking one glass and nudging the other across the table. "It was kind of a dick move on my part."

"Ya got that right," Yondu grumbles, taking the offered glass and knocking back the shot. It burns all the way down and tastes horrible but it's getting the job done so he can't complain. "They seem like a decent enough bunch," he adds after a second, gesturing vaguely to Peter. "That crew'a yers. Figures you'd find yer own band'a misfits before it was all said an' done."

Peter smirks and takes his own shot. "I grew up with thieves and murderers, what else was I supposed to do? Settle down with a normal family?"

"I'd kick yer ass."

"You'd try."

A comfortable silence falls between them and for a few very brief moments everything feels normal. For those few moments it's easy to forget about Ego and Yondu's death and everything else that had happened over the past few months. For the time being there's nothing but them and this bar and the disgusting liquor on their table.

After a few more seconds of silence, Peter reaches for the bottle again and purposely keeps his attention focused on everything except the man across from him. "You know, you could join us if you wanted to."

Yondu laughs once, a soft, quiet sound and mulls over the offer. "You mean become a member of yer little ragtag group? Become a Protector of the Planets or whatever it is ya call yerselves?"

"Guardians of the Galaxy."

"Right." Another beat of silence passes followed by a small shrug. "I dunno, Quill, that ain't exactly my style."

Peter just shrugs and pours another shot. "Fair enough, just an offer."

And it should have ended there, the conversation should have stopped and moved in a different direction. But it didn't.

"This Guardian gig," Yondu begins and it's his turn to look everywhere but in Peter's direction. "Does it pay anything?"

Peter smirks and shrugs again. "Sometimes," he answers vaguely. "It depends, really. Sometimes we get paid and sometimes it's pro bono. It's a case by case basis."

He's answered with another scoff. "I didn't raise you right."

"I could'a told you that," Peter retorts smoothly, filling the ex-Ravagers glass again and pushing it toward him.

Yondu accepts it and drums his fingers on the rim. "So you all just travel around the galaxy, rightin' wrongs and stadin' up for the little guy like some kinda interstellar Superman?"

"Pretty much," Peter says with another small shrug. "Except we're not glorified boy scouts; we actually use guns and bombs when we stop the bad guy."

The ex-Ravager flashes a crooked grin and chuckles. "Well, at least there's that." He takes the shot and doesn't bother stifling the cough that accompanies it. "Eh, what the hell, it ain't like I got anythin' better to do. Kraglin too, for that matter. Might be an interesting change'a pace."

"That's one way to describe it," Peter says with a grin as he kicks back his own shot. He drops the glass back onto the table with a soft 'thunk' and goes quiet for a second, clearly considering something. Finally, after few more seconds of silence passes, he sits up straight and shifts his way out of his jacket, reaching out to drop it on the table next to his glass.

Yondu eyes the piece of clothing and cocks an eyebrow. "The hell is this?"

"A jacket," Peter tells him simply as he leans back in his chair. "Can't be a Guardian without a jacket."

The ex-Ravager smirks and takes the offered jacket. "That so, huh?"

Peter holds up his hands in surrender. "Look man, I don't make the rules. There was a meeting a couple of months ago and you missed. It."

"Smart ass."

"Sometimes."

Yondu slides it on and rolls his shoulders to shift it into place. Peter is still slightly taller than him and his broad shoulders make the jacket just a little loose but it's a good fit and the jacket settles warm and comfortable across his back. "So not what?"

Peter shrugs one shoulder and pours out two more shots. "Now we take on the next job that comes our way. Could be something good, could be something bad, could be something in between."

Yondu muses for a second before dipping his chin in a nod. "I can handle that." He takes the glass Peter slides to him and holds it up. "To being a Guardian, I guess."

Peter grins and holds up his own glass. "To being a Guardian."

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 **So I know Yondu became an unofficial Guardian at the end of GotG2 but this is just kind of a reinstatement. Also I like the idea that the DCU exists in conjunction with the MCU enough that both of them know who Superman is.**

 **Thanks so much for reading guys! Have a great holiday! :D**


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